Arthur Rabbit and Big Brother Fox
by Sora Resi
Summary: It was one hell of a storm, and Alistair couldn't help but be worried. Would that stubborn rabbit be alright on his own? He hadn't been the same since that wolf had come around... What a troublesome little brother for a fox to have. England and Scotland brotherly fic, AU.


**_AN: This is something that's been sitting on my computer for close to forever, so I finished it off recently. See bottom author's note regarding how I envision the boys, and thanks to KassyMalone for proofing it and giving me the suggestion for the title and summary, because I'm terrible at coming up with them on my own._**

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**Arthur Rabbit and Big Brother Fox**

The burrow was cold and damp, the ground littered with puddles and the earthen walls dripping dismally. Even though he was sheltered from the worst of the storm, he could still feel the tumultuous rumbling and cracks of lightening, as well as a loud hammering as raindrops the size of his little fists pummelled the waterlogged ground.

Water dripped onto his face. His nose twitched.

Arthur was feeling thoroughly miserable. His leg and hip ached, a cruel symphony of pain throbbing up the left side of his body, although a tentative inspection of the scar tissue had assured the little rabbit that his old injuries were not inflamed; the cold and the wet had simply exasperated the usual pain that he felt on a daily basis.

He sniffled forlornly, burying his head into his chest. His clothes were soaked through to the skin, and there was a chilling layer of water all over his tiny body. He was curled up on his side, huddled in on himself and attempting to retain what little warmth he had. Even though he was a wild rabbit and had survived many storms, this one seemed to be particularly bad. He would never say it out loud, but he was actually a little bit scared.

A particularly violent clap of thunder made the little rabbit jump and whimper. The water level in his little home was rising worryingly, and if it got much deeper he'd be flooded out. Tears pricked at the corner of his wide absinthe eyes. If he was forced to leave his burrow in the state he was in, he would be completely at the mercy of any passing creature, assuming anyone would be foolish enough to brave such dire weather. Even on a good day he was too weak to defend himself, and on a day as bad as this he would be completely unable to run away from any threats that presented themselves.

He hurt so much he could barely move, anyway. He'd probably be unable to even wriggle his way out of the muddy little hole, even if he wanted to. A small consolation was that he'd probably die of hypothermia before he actually drowned. He couldn't see it himself, but his lips were turning blue and his skin was shockingly pale. He didn't have to see to know this, though. Shuddering, he curled into himself even more tightly, desperately clinging to any warmth that he could find.

He knew he shouldn't sleep, but his body felt so lethargic and heavy... unable to resist, he found himself quickly succumbing to sleep's dark embrace.

_**~SR~**_

Alistair was sitting in his den silently, watching the weather with a mildly concerned expression. His copper red tail flicked absently as he resisted the urge to drop of to sleep. A niggling worry held him back.

Usually, when the weather took such a bad turn, he'd return to his den to find his little rabbit awaiting, nestled up in the pile of blankets that the fox used as a bed. They'd exchange words - and not necessarily nice ones - but the fond undertones would be clear to both of them, and then they'd settled down together to wait out the storm.

Alistair knew that Arthur had a hard time coping with this sort of weather and that, despite their different species and the general belief they should be at conflict, he would always come to the fox for help. The little rabbit had no other family members and, besides Alistair, was completely alone. Arthur was a stubborn little creature who made a point to fight against Alistair over the most trivial of things, but at the end of the day he knew that he little rabbit would come to him if he was scared or hurt or even if he just needed the company.

Alistair could remember vividly the first time he'd met the little rabbit. He could remember the scent of fear, and the blood splattered haphazardly on the forest floor. He remembered the tiny little trembling form and the stench of wolf, and cradling the frail creature in his arms as its heart fluttered erratically and weakly. It had taken months of care to get the young boy back on his feet...

The attack had left him very badly hurt and even after the wounds had finally closed up he had still struggled to take care of himself, especially in this sort of weather. Unfortunately, the little rabbit was as stubborn as they came and refused to stay with Alistair, instead living in his own burrow in the forest and being generally self-sufficient. It still worried Alistair, though. Sometimes his old wounds would flair up so badly that he struggled to even move, and would be unable to forage for food or protect himself. Alistair made a point to visit him frequently, even if he was generally greeted with grumbles and complaints.

He gave a deep sigh and stood up. There was no way he could just sit around in his den without checking on the bunny. He shrugged on his cloak and pulled the hood up to cover his face as best he could. He didn't think it would make much of a difference, but it could stave off the inevitable dampness for a few extra moments. It was always best to try and avoid falling ill, any way. An ill animal was unable to survive for long in the wild.

He steeled himself, before ducking out of the den's entrance.

The rain fell heavily, like hail, and was it just as freezing to the touch. He wrapped his cloak tightly around his shoulders and kept his head down, but it did little to ward off the chilling onslaught. Not for the first time, he was glad that Arthur's burrow was only a very short distance from his own home. The sky was dark and heavy, and it felt like it took forever to stumble into the forest clearing where Arthur's home was, nestled in the base of a towering oak tree.

His feet sunk into the sodden ground as he went to kneel in front of the non-descript hole in the ground. Water was running down the opening and he could see large puddles forming further down. He called the younger boy's name, but the wind tore it away. Alistair swore as he tried to wriggle his top half into he entrance of the burrow. He knew Arthur was in there as he could smell the younger boy, but he was not responding to the fox's calls.

It was a tight fit, but he managed to shimmy himself into the entrance of the burrow. It was hard, though, as the rain kept pouring down and the ground was slick and waterlogged. He ended up coated in a layer of wet clay-like mud that clung to him like a second skin. He had to avoid holding his face too close to the ground, or else he would risk inhaling the vile stuff.

He stuck his arm out blindly, in what his sense of smell informed him was the direction that Arthur was in the small muddy hole. He fumbled about frantically, trying to get find something resembling a body to grasp onto. He was about to give up hope and force himself even further down the rabbit hole when the tips of his fingers brushed against something that felt like clothing. Stretching his fingers, he managed to clasp onto the cloth and tighten his fist around it. With the little leverage he had in his awkward position, he tugged roughly and began to drag what could only be Arthur towards the entrance.

He felt his stomach drop. The little rabbit was sickeningly pale and seemingly lifeless. He swore, and pulled Arthur close to him. He held him tight, shielding the still form from the biting wind and sleeting rain. The rain kept pouring, but the rabbit didn't respond to the icy chill or Alistair's frantic ministrations. He had to get him somewhere dry, and quickly.

With that in mind he hunched himself over the motionless body, covering him as best as he could, before hurrying back to his home.

**_~SR~_**

He stumbled into the den, clutching his precious cargo as though his life depended on it. Settling down in the nest of stolen blankets and fragments of material which constituted his bed, he shamelessly stripped the younger boy, removing the heavy, clinging clothes that were stuck to his skin. Finding the blanket Arthur had used back when he'd first taken in the little rabbit and since claimed as his own, he wrapped it tightly around the terrifyingly still body and desperately tried to warm him up.

He removed his own soaked top layers, and cradled Arthur against his chest. His heart beat was weak, but reassuringly _there_. He curled himself around the tiny body, scraping blankets around them so as to hoard as much warmth as he possibly could. The storm raged on outside the den's entrance, but he was far too pre-occupied to pay it any heed at this point. He had far more important matters to attend to.

Once the adrenaline dissipated and Arthur was feeling fractionally warmer, the urge to sleep once again overcame him. He tried to resist it for a few minutes, but Arthur's now-steady breaths were lulling him gently, and the fear he had felt only a short time earlier had left him worn and overwhelmed. He fell asleep, the little rabbit tucked tightly into his chest, to the storm's chaotic melody.

**_~SR~_**

He awoke to a slight wriggling and distinct sniffling, emanating from where Arthur had his face pressed against his chest. He pulled back to take a look at the young boy, noting that the worrying blue had gone from around his lips, although he was still too pale and looked exhausted, to say the least.

He watched as the little rabbit blinked blurry eyes open, unfocused and dazed. Even though he had been pressed flush against Alistair since the previous night, small trembles still ran through his body, and Alistair didn't even try to resist the urge to pull him tighter into his embrace. Arthur was clearly weak and disoriented, and he didn't struggle when he found himself buried in the fox's arms. The little rabbit gave a yawn, blinked his eyes a few times to try and clear his vision, before looking up at his saviour.

"'anks…" He murmured, with a voice that was barely even there.

"Yer very much welcome," Alistair responded, keeping a firm hold of the rabbit with one hand whilst using the other to fumble around on the floor, finally finding another blanket and bringing it up around Arthur, giving him a little more cover. The little rabbit buried his head into it appreciatively. Alistair noted the distinct lack of movement, and quickly realised that Arthur was still probably in a fair bit of pain. He didn't bother to bring it up; the little rabbit was quickly dropping back to sleep and he definitely needed it.

The storm outside had diminished, although it had by no means ended. Although there was still an edge of weariness, Alistair felt sufficiently rested to decide that he would remain awake. Although Arthur was a lot less cold now, he worried that he'd get ill after his narrow-escape, and he wouldn't have been able to sleep any more with that in mind. Instead, he shifted himself into a comfortable position, propped up again one of the walls, and simply sat there with his warm little bundle curled up on his lap.

**_~SR~_**

The next time Arthur woke up was a fair bit into the next day, and he was feeling somewhat more responsive, although not enough to try and escape Alistair's hold.

At least not until the red-head gave him a drabbling lecture on what a nuisance he was. A scowl erupted on his face, and his lips pouted petulantly, but it was more cute than anything, and Alistair ruffled the rabbit's hair affectionately. The little creature gave up on his escape attempt when pain shot up from his leg, though. Alistair noticed this and loosened his hold on his slightly in response.

"Are ye a'right, lad?"

"Yes…"

"How de ya feel?" The rabbit yawned and nuzzled into Alistair's clothes. He smiled at the unusual show of affection, but held him back and repeated his question. Wide green eyes looked up at him.

"M'still cold, and my side hurts. But m'not wet any more."

"Good. I need at go and get food. Will you be alrigh' on your own for a wee bit?"

Arthur nodded, and Alistair tucked him into what he considered to be a bed as best as he could. He didn't know the last time Arthur had eaten, and he himself was feeling a bit peckish. The nasty weather would make finding it harder too, so he knew he needed to start sooner rather than later. Once he was absolutely sure that Arthur was settled and comfortable, he quickly found the rabbit's discarded clothes from the previous night and hung them out to dry, and then left the den.

He kept the little trip as short as possible, and made it back only a couple of hours later. For himself he had caught a pheasant, and for Arthur he had managed to find some fruit that had been knocked from trees thanks to the high winds. Arthur was still asleep when he got back, and after making sure that he wasn't showing any obvious signs of sickness, Alistair sat down near the front of his den to prepare the freshly-caught meat and ponder.

As the little rabbit slept in a nest of blankets, curled up on his one side to avoid agitating his old injuries, Alistair decided it was time to put his foot down. He'd tolerated Arthur's old insistence that he live alone and independently because he couldn't bear to upset the younger boy, but this time it had got too close. Even a few minutes later and the little rabbit would have not survived, and it was too great a risk. No matter how much he fought or argued, the only way to ensure that Arthur would remain safe would be if he lived with Alistair permanently. He wouldn't have to worry about predators or him being unable to feed himself, either.

However, when Alistair broke the news to the little rabbit, he wasn't met with screams or shrieks. Arthur simply looked up at him before nuzzling back into his pile of blankets. It was disconcerting, and it dawned on Alistair just how scared he must have been on the night of the storm.

**_~SR~_**

Alistair had left the den early that day, eager to take advantage of the nice weather. Arthur had roused slightly upon him leaving, but had quickly dropped back asleep. He'd re-awoken a few hours later to a bright sunny day. With the birds calling and the leaves flickering in the slight wind, it was a picture of peacefulness.

Arthur had quickly found himself getting bored, mind you. Alistair had refused to let him leave the little cave and for someone who had previously spent whole days wondering around the forest in search of food and generally looking around, it was almost too much to take. The little rabbit felt like he was going to die of boredom, but he knew there was no way in hell that Alistair would let him leave.

So he didn't bother to ask. We nary a backward glance the little rabbit tottered out of the den, relishing the feel of grass underfoot. He smiled as he felt the warm sun on his face. He'd missed this so much. Wobbling forward, but being careful so as not to irritate his still aching hip any further, he stumbled down the small slope that led down from Alistair's den to the vibrant forest below. He didn't plan on being out for long, he just really needed to stretch his legs and get out of the den for a while. He was by no means claustrophobic (he'd lived in a burrow, after all) but being stuck in the same small space got boring after a while.

He knew he didn't have long. If Alistair came back early he'd be able to track his scent no problem. As it was, he was hoping he'd be distracted enough when he did come back to not notice. The older fox could be pretty scary when he was angry. Arthur knew he wouldn't hurt him, but he didn't like being yelled at. It hurt his ears.

The forest was calm and peaceful, a stark contrast to the raging chaos of the storm a few days before. There were a few signs of it having happened - fallen branches scattered about and the occasional fallen tree - but for most of the part you could almost forget the cold and the terror and the noise. Birds were whistling and chirping, leaves were rustling in the slight breeze and the sky was a vibrant azure.

Arthur wandered along a well-worn track through the towering trees, cloak wrapped loosely around him and head in the clouds. He didn't even have to think about where he was going because his feet already knew. It took a little while, but he soon found himself at the big oak tree. He toddled up to the hole that indicated the entrance of his burrow, but immediately found himself confronted with a problem.

There wasn't a hole left.

The rabbit-sized hollow had almost completely vanished, and all that was left was a slight muddy depression in the ground. Arthur stared at it in shock, falling to his knees without even realising he'd done so. The rain had washed away any signs that a rabbit had even lived there. Even his scent, which had normally permeated most of the clearing, had been replaced by the smell of water and dirt.

He jutted his bottom lip out and found himself stifling little cries. He'd known that Alistair was never going to let him live there alone again, but that burrow had been his home for years and the fact that it had been completely wiped out by a simple storm was incredibly upsetting. And to think, he'd been in there whilst this was happening! It made him appreciate Alistair's actions on that dark night even more.

Rubbing his eyes with fisted hands, he forced himself upright. There was little point being there any more.

Just as he was about to leave his instincts kicked in as he realised the forest had fallen suspiciously silent. He was instantly on edge, ears flickering as he tried to pick up any untoward sounds whilst remaining completely frozen. He _knew_ something was there, but that something remained stubbornly silent.

Just as he was beginning to regret his little trip to his old home, he heard the rustling of clothing behind him and spun around, prepared to bolt but knowing full well he'd never be fast enough to escape should a predator decide to chase.

Fortunately, the sight he was confronted with was a little less scary than anticipated. Only a little bit, mind you.

"Alistair! Don't scare me like that!"

"You're one to talk, ye daft bampot! I told ye not to leave the den!" Arthur pouted. The taller boy was standing there with his arms crossed and a simmering look on his face.

"I was bored…"

"Ye could have got killed. Now come on." He started to leave the clearing, leaving Arthur to hurriedly stumble behind. Arthur could tell the older boy was angry and decided to keep his mouth shut, keeping his complaints to himself as he mentally cursed the fox and his long legs.

He really wasn't looking forward to the lecture he'd be getting once they got home.

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_**AN: Appearance-wise, I view them as having the ears/tail of the creature they are (rabbit, fox) but being otherwise human. Arthur is very young physically, maybe around five-ish, whereas Scotland is in his late teens. They live in the forest, and I may continue this if ever I get inspiration with some other characters being introduced. Mind you, I think I love big brother Scotland most, at the moment!**_

_**Thanks for reading! Reviews etc. are loved.**_

_**Edit: The awesome KassyMalone has written a sequel. Go check it out! www*fanfiction*net*/s/9457414/6/Wildcard**_


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